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转不过身的时候，给自己美丽约定

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The physician regarded his questioner curiously with half-shut eyes.
After a professional scrutiny, prolonged to the limit of politeness,
'Pardon me,' he said; 'one asking information should be willing to
impart it. Are you wounded?' he added, smiling.
'Not seriously--it seems.'
The man removed the unmilitary hat, put his hand to his head, passed
it through his hair and, withdrawing it, attentively considered the
palm.
'I was struck by a bullet and have been unconscious. It must have
been a light, glancing blow: I find no blood and feel no pain. I will
not trouble you for treatment, but will you kindly direct me to my
command--to any part of the Federal army--if you know?'
Again the doctor did not immediately reply: he was recalling much
that is recorded in the books of his profession--something about lost
identity and the effect of familiar scenes in restoring it. At length he
looked the man in the face, smiled, and said:
'Lieutenant, you are not wearing the uniform of your rank and
service.'
At this the man glanced down at his civilian attire, lifted his
eyes, and said with hesitation:
'That is true. I--I don't quite understand.'
Still regarding him sharply but not unsympathetically, the man of
science bluntly inquired:
'How old are you?'